


I Left A Poem In Your Mouth

by FinAmour



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Happy Valentine’s Day, Kissing, M/M, They basically just kiss for 221 words, djdkamndsnsm, soft bois, wall kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinAmour/pseuds/FinAmour
Summary: They’re at home tonight, though home is anywhere they both are.





	I Left A Poem In Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wendymarlowe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymarlowe/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授权翻译】I Left A Poem In Your Mouth/ 我在你的口中留下诗篇](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796767) by [agnesdc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agnesdc/pseuds/agnesdc)



> “A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.” —Ingrid Bergman
> 
> ***
> 
> This is a gift for wendymarlowe, who has been so kind and supportive of me, and whose writing and friendship makes me smile. ❤️

It’s far from their first kiss. Far from their last.

Yet every kiss overflows with the fresh exhilaration of the very first time, the heated desperation of the very last, and the divine familiarity of having done it hundreds of times before.

They’re at home tonight, though home is anywhere they both are.

John presses Sherlock’s body against the wall inside the darkened room as rain gently rattles the windowpane. He savours this perfect moment, lavishing Sherlock with wet, sensual kisses. Trails his lips along his jaw, his neck, feeling the quick, unsteady pulse, the flush of arousal on his lover’s skin.

Sherlock’s palms roam down John’s spine, shallow breaths becoming tiny, wanting whimpers. John slides his fingers into silky curls, drawing Sherlock’s bottom lip between his, cradling his precious head in his hands.

Sherlock smells like chamomile, and he tastes like white wine and devotion.

John loves him. God, how he loves him.

John tells him, the words rumbling across Sherlock’s lips like the rainstorm against the windows, as they rock their hips together in a slow, steady rhythm.

“John,” Sherlock whispers, a shivering sigh into John’s mouth. Slides their tongues together. Kisses him with all the love in his body and soul. And tonight, in their little home, in their little life together, there is nothing John needs more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from a lovely little poem by Andrea Gibson: 
> 
> “That night when you kissed me,  
> I left a poem in your mouth,  
> and you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.”


End file.
